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<title>Quarantined - Four/Sarah Drabble by kneesdeepinsaturn</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602998">Quarantined - Four/Sarah Drabble</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kneesdeepinsaturn/pseuds/kneesdeepinsaturn'>kneesdeepinsaturn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (1963)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:08:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kneesdeepinsaturn/pseuds/kneesdeepinsaturn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fourth Doctor/Sarah Jane Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Quarantined - Four/Sarah Drabble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days somehow seemed, well, shorter.</p><p>With every passing day that Sarah lay kept in her bed, she wondered if the little shops around the corner from her flat would keep the same fresh baked bread they used to sell everyday, or if the pub still served their luxurious drinks that Benton would often invite her to for tasting. Nothing seemed weirder than when she’d open her window and see nothing but the dirt that would once get stirred up by the locals.</p><p>She rolls over and pulls the duvet closer to her, watching as the mist from the humidifier in front of her evaporated into the light that bled through the window. Not only had the Doctor advised her to stay indoors, but right before the town’s shut down, she noticed many people starting to distance themselves from one another. </p><p> </p><p>It was a far stretch to say she was anxious from the whole thing, but the atmosphere truly was unnerving.</p><p>Sarah wondered what the Brigadier was up to. She wondered if her aunt had prepared herself for the worst, or if Harry was in dire need of some reassurance right now. The only help Sarah would be able to accommodate, however, would be to follow UNIT’s orders, and keep herself away from everyone else, hoping the introversion would quickly subdue.</p><p>Before she could rot away in her lonely thoughts, a familiar knock came to her flat door.</p><p>Getting up and dragging the duvet along with her, Sarah eerily peers into her flats peep hole, confused to see none other than a mess of dark, curly locks. </p><p>Her stomach grew with butterflies, and in excitement, she quickly unlocks the door to see the Doctor, his scarf swathed messily around his face. Through muffled mumbles and a smile she could see through the fabric, she lets him in and closes the door behind him.</p><p>“I thought you said the Brig wouldn’t let you out of his sight?” Sarah plops herself down on the couch adjacent to him, watching as he slowly begins to unravel the scarf from around his face. </p><p>“He says a lot of things he doesn’t mean.” He says clearer now, but the sight Sarah is subjected to see raises more questions than just him sneaking out of UNIT HQ.</p><p>“Oh my word,” she starts, and suddenly, a giggle.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Your face!”</p><p>The Doctor rubs his cheeks.</p><p>“What, what’s wrong with my face?”</p><p>Sarah motions around his lips and chin, and the Doctor catches on.</p><p>“Oh. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” </p><p>The sound of him scratching his jaw was hard to ignore, as it sounded like sandpaper against grain. </p><p>“It’s hard not to when it grows bright orange.”</p><p>The Doctor finally takes a seat, rubbing his palm against the upturned edges of facial hair he’s started to grow. “It’s difficult to shave when you’re not allowed to go anywhere.”</p><p>Sarah blows a raspberry. “We might be under quarantine, but I’m pretty sure you’re still allowed to buy razors.” The Doctor shakes his head.</p><p>“UNIT’s orders. They wouldn’t even bring me one.”</p><p>Sarah leans up, pulling the duvet closer to her.</p><p>“Speaking of which, how did you get out?”</p><p>The Doctor wraps his scarf up neatly, pushing it to the side of him as he tries to come up with an excuse Sarah would believe. He’s known her for so long, nothing really worked anymore. He bit his tongue.</p><p>“You know I’m not as susceptible to human diseases, right?”</p><p>Sarah stops him with a palm of the hand. “I want to know how the Brig let you out.” </p><p>Slouching in defeat, he sighs and brushes his curls back. Sarah notices the orange-ish tint of his sideburns. She never noticed he was a ginger.</p><p>“He didn’t let me out, exactly. I snuck out. Much like my first time at UNIT.” </p><p>Sarah only sighs. “History does repeat its self.” She brings her knees up to her chest, which let the Doctor know she was somewhat content with his truthful answer. “You risked a lot coming here, though. You’re lucky I’m not sick.”</p><p>“I’d know if you were sick or not.” </p><p>Confused, Sarah watches as the Doctor rummages around in his pocket, pulling out a small black box which, to the Doctor, thankfully blinked green. “Let’s me know when bacteria has contaminated a surface.” He waves it around her apartment. “You’re pretty much clean.”</p><p>Sarah blinks in awe. “Well that puts my mind to rest about this whole thing.” In an effort to keep the conversation going, Sarah chuckles.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Well, if you had time to make one of those things, why couldn’t you have just made a razor?”</p><p> The Doctor pockets the device and stands up, stretching. “Does it bother you that much?” He slowly walks over, and Sarah’s body tightens. “Not in the slightest. I do have a question, though.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>The Doctor sits next to her, making her body sink lower into the cushions. She reaches out to touch his cheek, feeling the prickly mess agitate her finger tips. “Why’s it orange?” Her fingers find their way up to the side of his head as she slowly pushes back curls to expose his ears and sideburns.</p><p>“Is that what you’re fascinated by? The discoloration of my hair?”</p><p>Sarah rolls her eyes. “What else do you have to talk about? It’s not like we can go off and explore a planet where everyone else has ginger hair.” </p><p>The Doctor, taking her hand in his, tilts his head engagingly. “Fair point.”</p><p>Before Sarah could jest more about his appearance, the Doctor suddenly leans up against her, his prickly face rubbing against whatever bareness he could find to her. Sarah yelps in confusion, quickly laughing to cover up the strange comfortableness of his scratchy face. “Oi!”</p><p>Sarah figured isolation wasn’t so bad when you had someone else to share it with.</p>
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